The Ex-Wife's Burning Elegance

“Mr. Harry never misses a chance to call someone useless—maybe he's just so experienced at being one himself that he's here to teach the rest of us?"noveldrama

Stella didn't care what people said about her. Their attacks and insults never bothered her.

But insulting the people she cared about? That was something she couldn't let slide.

Now, after Stella's words, everyone stared at her like she'd lost her mind.

Did she really just talk to Harry like that?

Harry was Father Walden's protégé—a man with serious influence in the music world.

Harry's expression darkened, his lips twisting in a cold smile.

He actually laughed, though his anger was barely concealed. "Stella, don't you want to know why Antoney made that bet with me? It's because-"

Antoney cut him off abruptly. "Enough!"

Harry scoffed. “I already told you, if you want me to shut up, get on your knees and beg. If you can't do that, then stay quiet. The fact that I beat you so easily just proves Nora was a failure, doesn't it?"

Antoney's fists clenched, his knuckles turning white, eyes burning with rage.

He couldn't hold back any longer and shot to his feet. “Harry, you—”

Stella, sensing what was about to happen, placed a steadying hand on Antoney's arm.

She fixed Harry with a hard, icy stare. "You insulted my mother, didn't you?"

Harry shrugged, utterly unbothered. “Insult? I'm just telling it like it is. She couldn't even compete with me when I was ten, yet over here, you Novaris people worship her like some kind of legend. Says a lot about the level of violinists in this country. Nora was a loser—a real one. At least she had enough self-awareness to die young. If she were still alive, she'd just be wasting oxygen.”

He didn't get to finish. A drink came flying across the table, splashing straight into Harry's face.

He fell silent, stunned.

Stella's voice was glacial. "Apologize. To my mother and to my mentor. Right now."

“Harry, are you okay?” Rachel hurried over, handing him a handkerchief.

Harry wiped the sticky drink from his face and let out a twisted laugh. "And who are you to demand that?" Antoney's face went red with fury. He couldn't hold it in anymore.

"You heartless bastard! Our teacher treated you like her own, and this is how you repay her? She's gone, and you still spit on her name! Just admit it-so long as she was around, you knew you'd never be more than second best. You call her a failure? You're the only real failure here!"

But Harry only looked amused, his smile cruel. "So what? She still died sick and alone, didn't she?"

Antoney's hands trembled with the

effort not to leap across the table and hit him. If it weren't for Stella's competition, he would have done it already.

Harry smirked, his gaze drifting to Stella, who looked just as furious.

“Want to get revenge for your mother and your mentor?” he taunted.

Stella saw right through him. He'd come here, said all these things, just to provoke her—waiting for this moment.

Her voice was as cold as winter frost. “Say it. What do you want to bet?"

Harry was momentarily surprised, then broke into a grin. "Finally, someone who gets it."

He looked her dead in the eye. “If our team wins the upcoming competition, you quit. Leave the industry. Never touch a violin again."

Rachel barely contained her excitement, her eyes shining.

Stella's lips curled into a confident smile. "And if we win, you get down on your knees, in public, and

apologize to my mother and to Antoney. The same way you once made my mentor bark like a dog-you'll do exactly that

Harry burst out laughing. “Deal!"